


Garbage

by conceptstage



Series: Critical Fiction [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 12:31:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15663279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/conceptstage/pseuds/conceptstage
Summary: Molly won't stand for anyone but him being rude to his friends.





	Garbage

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to my tumblr. Come find me there, I'm concept-stage.

Beau belched so hard she coughed and had to hit her chest with her fist to dislodge the breath that was stuck in her throat. Molly winced. “Ugh. That was an awful one. Really Beau?”

“Oh, fuck you, Molly,” she said, barely paying attention to him and not even looking up from the smut book she was reading. She had her feet propped up on the table and the cover to the book showed very clearly two half naked man draped over an equally clad halfling woman. She was the picture of grace, obviously.

It was just the two of them right now. Nott and Caleb were hunting down a bookshop and the others were still missing. Molly was humming quietly to himself as he swirled the last of his ale in his mug and was about to polish it off when movement caught the corner of his eye and he followed it.

An older woman with white, curly hair and a face that sagged like moss was marching over to their table with determination, her eyes on the dark skinned monk. She clearly felt that she had something to say to Beau and he was torn between saving the poor old broad and watching the show. He chose to watch.

What he thought would be a funny confrontation turned nasty quickly. The old woman smacked the book from Beau’s hand and roughly ripped her feet off the table. “Young ladies shouldn’t behave this way. And what on Elendria have you done to your hair, your poor mother must be so disappointed. You should shape up, missy, no man is gonna marry a nasty girl like you.” He felt rage boiling under his skin and he could see that Beau was quickly getting over the shock of being assaulted by the crypt keeper’s bride and was about to start ranting.

He beat her to it. “You, dear woman, need to refrain from putting your hands where they don’t belong.” 

She looked over at him and glared. “This is none of your business, demon.”

“Oh, see, it is absolutely my business. Because that bitch?” he pointed to Beau and she seemed genuinely shocked that he was standing up for her. She clearly wasn’t used to having friends. “Is my friend, which means that I’m the only one allowed to give her shit. She’s a garbage person, but she’s  _ my _ garbage person, understand?” He took a step towards her and she took a quick step back. He wasn’t trying to be intimidating and she didn’t seem scared of him, just put off by the horns and skin, which he was used to. “So you climb down off your damn high horse before I let her push you off. And be thankful that I got to you before she did, she’s not as nice as me. Shuffle along now, I’m sure you have some birds to yell at.” He turned without waiting for a response and took his seat back, knocking back the last of his ale. When he lowered the mug, the woman was gone but Beau was still staring at him with wide eyes. “What?”

“Did you mean that?” she asked, her voice unsure for perhaps the first time since he’d met her.

“About me being the only one allowed to give you shit? Fuck yeah. Fuck her.”

“No, I meant…” she paused and looked away, leaning over to pick up her book from the floor. “Nevermind.”

“No, come on, I wanna know.” Beau looked at him and seemed to be carefully planning out her words and then cringing. He was kind of glad she hadn’t said them out loud, because her own reaction to her thoughts probably meant they were absolutely terrible. “Well, I meant every word I said if that answers your question. Especially the parts where I called you a bitch and a garbage person.”

She smirked and started flipping through her book, putting her feet back up on the table. “Fuck you, Molly.”

“Fuck you too, Beau.”


End file.
